Hello all! I am beyond excited, since today I am hosting a new author! But an author I have followed for years! Welcome Susan Kaye! It is a pleasure to host you, welcome to Interests of a Jane Austen Girl.
Susan has written a book within the world of Persuasion, which is one of two of my favourite Austen worlds! But I do warn you right now, that she is hitting us with quite a lot of spoilers!! For now, I will leave you in Susan’s creative hands. The stage is yours, Susan.
GUEST POST; Stealing a Baronet’s Daughter by Susan Kaye
!!MASSIVE SPOILERS AHEAD!!
I included the violently ugly headline above because I have been publicly flogged for letting a cat or two out of the bag. I don’t care about spoilers. I am more interested in how a particular creative mind brings a movie or story to a close and spoiler are usually too bare bones to do that for me. If you are normal though, and don’t care for them, I’ll be spilling the beans on my book, Stealing the Baronet’s Daughter. You have been warned.
Years ago, I noticed that my writing process is very driven by writing fan fiction. Most of my stories are What-ifs. “What if I remove this small element over here, or I drop this tid bit right here…” Austen particular arcs and chronologies allow me the luxury of playing with those to my heart’s content. Authors who write from their own imaginations are certainly influenced by people and events they observe, but they don’t have a readymade structure to rearrange like I do. That being said, Stealing the Baronet’s Daughter isn’t one of those mix-and-match stories.
In the early days of the fandom, before, Facebook was the predominant meeting place for Austenites, there were lots of websites with message boards and storyboards to be had. My first online encounter with Austen was the Republic of Pemberley. (The site was deactivated long ago but the treasure trove of info is still accessible.) During my New-to-Austen explorer days I taped, (yes, with a VCR and VSH tape cassette), Persuasion playing Sunday night on Masterpiece Theater. When I watched it, I knew I had found my Austen “home.” I had been reading Pride and Prejudice fan fiction posted on Pemberley’s Bits of Ivory story board and had even attempted a L&D story. That went out the window upon seeing the 1995 adaptation of Persuasion.
I am a sucker for a self-made man, and a second chance at love. Persuasion gives me both in one place. Jackpot! I soon wrote my first fan fiction story: Plymouth. It is dreadful. It still resides on my hard drive, where it will stay unless I rewrite it someday. Anyway, other stories followed, and I enjoyed my newfound hobby. After a while I looked up and noticed that other sites were starting to make a little noise, so I went to various ones, signed up with my writing name of Susan Kaye—this is my real name, sort of—and took in the sites. I quickly discovered that some of the sites were created to have an outlet for adult fan fiction and speculative conversations about what Lizzy and Darcy might get up to in private. Not my thing but carry on. There were lots of sites back then, big and small. Eventually, I found one called Firthness.
The theme was Colin Firth, of course, but it wasn’t as hardcore Firth as you might think. Also, I think the membership skewed older than many of the others, so there was a quieter atmosphere. The current fandom can be pretty fractious and strident when it comes to discussions, but that was not the case with Firthness. The proprietress, Melly, did not tolerate raised voices or much cheek. For those of you who like a bumpy ride, it wasn’t boring. There were fewer adaptations to argue over, and less inclination to win the point.
I am finally coming to see how I decided to steal Anne Elliot.
Firthness had several writing challenges in the course of a year. One was to take an Austen hero and make him the bad guy in 100 words or less. (A drabble.) A good acquaintance, Grace, wrote a masterpiece about Frederick observing Louisa and considering how he might manipulate her. I don’t use the word “masterpiece” lightly. Grace was an attorney and could make you cry in just a few paragraphs.
A week or two later, the next challenge was issued. Take one of the brabbles and expand it to a short story. Grace’s story didn’t have a title, or I didn’t note it at the time, but I used it gladly. (I still get a feeling of excitement when I think of her writing.) I expanded it to a story called Shadows in a Brilliant Life. It was great fun to write. It wrote itself. That is when I realized that Austen had created a character who was, for me, her best hero, and could have been her foulest villain. Then I wondered if I could write a longer story in which Frederick appears to be a villain, meets Anne, leaves her wonder, is he or isn’t he, and then he saves the day.
I wasn’t able to do that. Oh, in Stealing Wentworth looks very much like a smuggler in the first chapters. And he’s convincing. He unexpectedly meets Anne and keeps her in the dark through a minor battle of ships at sea. And after saving her, they spend the night together crammed into an underground hide for smuggled goods. He watches over her when they spend a few nights with a sexy and vicious woman who heads a gang of smugglers. Where I failed was making him the ultimate hero of the story. In my opinion, the ultimate hero is Anne.
Anne is always cited as one of the nicest heroines and one that readers would like to befriend. I think she would be difficult because she doesn’t share herself much, but as I was writing this story, she asserted herself in a wonderful way. Anne found her voice and pushed back (hard) against her father, the Royal Navy, and even Frederick himself.
When I first started writing what was becoming a novel, I posted it on a story site, Beyond Austen. It was called, A Plan of His Own Making. Gad, how boring is that? It got a few comments now and then. I still liked the story but lost interest, only pulling it out now and then. One day, I realized I disliked the title and had to change it. After a few cruises through the thesaurus and muttering to myself, I came up with Stealing the Baronet’s Daughter.
Now, Wentworth doesn’t actually steal Anne. That is poetic license on my part. But I think it does capture the feel of the piece. And it certainly is better than the first title. By miles.
So, here is the evolution of one novel. Every author has some of these. I’m glad that Sophia gave me the chance to share this one.
I will admit to loving the self-made Wentworth and Persuasion, as a book and as a variation world, and this book does sound rather wonderful, and smugglers/pirates, Wentworth and Anne romance and adventures on the high seas sounds like a pretty good mix! I will definitely get my hands on this book!
Hello all and welcome back from Easter! I have just been in Paris after 15 years. It was very enjoyable! But today I am hosting MJ Stratton and her new book, “Crossroads” a P&P variation about Mary King and what happened to her.
BLURB;
What Became of Miss Mary King
Miss Mary King was whisked away to Liverpool by her uncle, thus escaping the clutches of Mr. Wickham. What became of the heiress once removed from the fortune-hunting cad that wished to marry her?
In Liverpool, she struggles with sadness and regret, battling the memories of what occurred in Meryton and resenting the fortune that made her so gullible a target for the charming rogue that stole her heart
This story completes Mary’s saga as she learns to trust and love again.
At First Slight
What happens when an angry fairy takes offense to Mr. Darcy’s insult of one of his favorite mortals?
Eros and his bride, Psyche, boasted many names over the eons, but their purpose has always been the same: unite mortals with the potential for love and see them off to their happy endings. Their magic draws them about to the moment possibly lovers are fated to meet. The magic guides them as they aid the couples.
But what happens when Eros is angered by Mr. Darcy’s cruel words to Elizabeth? He takes matters into his own hands, of course, bumbling and erring the entire way. After acting impulsively, he and his bride must work to correct the course before Elizabeth and Darcy lose their chance at a happy ending forever.
A Change of Outcomes
What would happen if Lydia Bennet, while snooping in her sister’s room, discovered Lizzy’s letter from Darcy before going to Brighton? How would her perception of Mr. Wickham’s attentions change?
Lydia goes to Brighton with eyes wide open, and instead of falling for Mr. Wickham’s charm, chooses a steadier path. Her friendship with Harriet Forster takes a different turn, and she sees life and marriage in an entirely new way. But Mr. Wickham seems determined to win her good opinion, much to Lydia’s vexation. Will she get her own happy ending, or will she remain the vapid, foolish child she has always been?
EXCERPT;
Excerpt from “At First Slight“
September 15, 1811
Meryton Assembly
Eros, the divine embodiment of Love, gracefully glided unseen through the assembly rooms in Meryton. He went by many names, but Eros, the one given to him by the Greeks, was the one he most favored, encouraging his female counterpart, Psyche, to also adopt her Greek appellation.
Across cultures there were multiple gods and goddesses of love. In truth, they were all the same manifestation of a singular divine force. He and his wife were fae, and moved among the mortals, dedicated to guiding them in their own quest for love, as they had for countless eons.
The fashion of the last several hundred years had vexed the immortal pair. They had watched in despair as some of their favorite humans had been coerced into unions devoid of affection, and driven solely for the purposes of convenience, political alliance, or consolidation of wealth. It was disgusting and went against the very laws of nature. Eros thought love ought to be the only reason someone would choose to marry.
Psyche was quick to remind him that marrying for love was not always practical nor prudent.
“One must eat, my dear,” she reminded him, gently, when one of his favored mortals had chosen to marry a rich earl instead of her lowly footman.“I know,” he responded petulantly. “That does not mean I have to like it.”
Eros and Psyche had assisted many of history’s greatest romances. It was a favorite part of their duties to aid in bringing together people whose love would prove legendary. John and Abigail Adams, Marc Antony and Cleopatra, Henry the Eighth and Anne Boleyn… and more recently, Napoleon and Josephine. In truth, many love stories ended in tragedy. Alas, their responsibility was to bring people together; the task of ensuring the mortals stayed together belonged to another. The two fae wandered, drawn to a distinct energy that would spring up when two people fated to meet were destined for love. In those initial moments, Eros and his bride would orchestrate the encounter and, using their individual gifts, guide the lovers together.
They had strict limitations on interference, however. Mortals could be very obstinate and even their powerful magic was sometimes not enough. Overpowering human will could suffocate the love they attempted to encourage, leading to catastrophic outcomes. Helen of Troy was an excellent example. She had been attracted to her husband but resistant to his overtures. The dratted woman ended up running off with Paris and the whole debacle ended in war.
So, he and Psyche roamed, attuned to any spark igniting when two mortals were destined to love each other. Then, they would orchestrate the union so they could form an attachment and, hopefully, marry.
Tonight felt special. As they floated through the crowd, he noted two of his favorite mortals mingling amongst the throng. Miss Jane Bennet was almost as lovely as his wife. Her golden hair and fair features had marked her as a beauty from a young age. She was serene and had a mild temperament. Any man would consider themselves fortunate to win her heart. This evening, she was surrounded by a blush-colored aura, a telltale sign for Eros that she was to meet her intended tonight.
Miss Bennet’s sister, Miss Elizabeth, was by her side and Eros was shocked to see that she, too, was surrounded by a blush-colored aura. Hers was much more pronounced than her sister’s and his brow creased in consternation.
“Do you see what I see, my dear?” Psyche asked.
“I do. Why do you suppose Jane’s aura is so… different?”
“In the past, a less-pronounced aura often signified only a possibility, if you recall,” Psyche answered. “Perhaps Jane is to meet someone tonight with whom she could suit. After all, one might find true love with more than one person in their lifetime.”
Psyche studied the sisters before her. “Elizabeth’s aura, on the other hand…” she said, trailing off.
“Yes, it is quite pronounced,” he agreed. “I have scarcely seen the like. Surely, this means hers will be one of the greatest romances ever to be.”
“I quite agree,” Psyche said, nodding. “I have yet to see any others here with auras besides them. When do you suppose the others will arrive?”
“I think they are here now,” he replied, nodding toward the door. His robes trailed behind him as he and his bride moved closer to the entry of the hall. A group of five had just arrived, all finely dressed. They were unfamiliar to him. His magic supplied their identities, though he had never seen them before. Only two sported their own auras. The first was a gregarious man, Mr. Charles Bingley of Scarborough, and the second was a tall, forbidding-looking man, Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley in Derbyshire.
Eros and Psyche watched as the group was introduced around the room and when the two gentlemen were presented to the Bennet sisters.
Mr. Bingley and Miss Bennet’s auras ignited brightly as they greeted each other. Her cheeks were stained with a becoming blush, and she gracefully accepted Mr. Bingley’s request for a dance.
“Well, I suppose it is clear who Jane will be paired with,” Psyche murmured. “Now it is up to us to help them along. I do not think much will be needed.”
“Observe the others,” Eros directed, pointing to Miss Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy. “Notice how their auras have surged? They appear to be ablaze!”
They watched in satisfaction for a moment, waiting for Mr. Darcy to ask her for a set, but he did nothing but bow and stride briskly away. The aura surrounding him ignited with a strange black tinge as he positioned himself against the wall, a scowl affixed firmly on his face.
“Well, I never!” Psyche said in shock. “What was that all about?”
“Elizabeth’s aura is flickering, too,” Eros murmured. “Perhaps this pair will require assistance.” Miss Elizabeth truly was one of his favorite mortals. It would please him greatly if she were contently wedded in a bond of mutual love.
“Let us not be hasty,” Psyche cautioned. “Their love is destined to be. My magic has confirmed it.”
Eros huffed in irritation. “Yet, human will is strong,” he argued. “Destined or not, they are free to make their own choices.”
“Yes, but destiny has a way of correcting itself when one is off course. Our calling is to assist them without overpowering their will. Love will conquer all in the end; we can only help it grow. Remember, we have considerable resources at our disposal.”
“Very well,” he replied. “We shall observe for the present.”
It was at that moment fate intervened. Eros glided closer to Miss Elizabeth, who was sitting out a set to provide other ladies an opportunity to dance. Standing very near to her was Mr. Darcy. The man stared blankly out at the throng of revelers, fleeting flashes of annoyance crossing his features. His friend, the amiable Mr. Bingley approached.
“Come, Darcy,” Bingley said cheerfully. “I must have you dance. I hate to see you standing about by yourself in this stupid manner. You had much better dance.”
Eros agreed. How dreadfully rude it was to keep to the walls when there were many young ladies without a partner.
“I certainly shall not,” Mr. Darcy replied crisply. “You know how I detest it unless I am particularly acquainted with my partner. At such an assembly as this it would be insupportable. Your sisters are engaged, and there is not another woman in the room whom it would not be a punishment to me to stand up with.”
Eros met Psyche’s gaze. Both raised their brows. How very rude this man was!
“I would not be so fastidious as you are,” cried Mr. Bingley, “for a kingdom! Upon my honor, I never met with so many pleasant girls in my life as I have this evening; and there are several of them you see uncommonly pretty.”
“You are dancing with the only handsome girl in the room,” said Mr. Darcy, looking at the eldest Miss Bennet.
“At least he thinks Jane is pretty,” muttered Psyche. “If he had insulted her, I might have lost my temper.” Eros nodded in agreement.
“Oh! She is the most beautiful creature I ever beheld!” Bingley cried. “But there is one of her sisters sitting down just behind you, who is very pretty, and I dare say very agreeable. Do let me ask my partner to introduce you.”
“I do not believe we shall have to concern ourselves with those two,” Eros said pleasantly. “He appears smitten.”
“Which do you mean?” and turning round he looked for a moment at Miss Elizabeth, till catching her eye, he withdrew his own and coldly said: “She is tolerable, I suppose, but not handsome enough to tempt me; I am in no humor at present to give consequence to young ladies who are slighted by other men. You had better return to your partner and enjoy her smiles, for you are wasting your time with me.”
Eros narrowed his eyes, anger, and disbelief coursing through him. How dare the man speak such an insult! He reached into the air behind him and conjured his bow.
The bow was special. Its arrows were not designed to kill. Instead, they were tools to aid in his endeavors. The first arrow would amplify any attraction. This proved useful when one or both of a pair were proving particularly hardheaded. The second arrow encouraged the growth of any discontent, dislike, or aversion.
The arrows would not work if there was no genuine foundation for the feelings, be they good or bad. Some particularly obtuse humans were immune all together.
“Eros,” Psyche cautioned, “let us not be hasty.”
“You said it yourself,” he argued. “It is their destiny to be together. That does not mean we have to make it easy. It is certainly clear that this fellow is either blind or daft. Elizabeth deserves better. If they are truly meant to be, any obstacle will be overcome.
“The effects are temporary,” he continued, as he drew back the bow. Focused on his target, Eros released the arrow and was pleased that his aim proved true. The arrow pierced the arrogant Mr. Darcy directly in the heart with instantaneous results. His gaze followed Miss Elizabeth as she walked across the room and stopped next to Miss Charlotte Lucas, to whom she was without doubt relating Mr. Darcy’s insulting.
Reaching into his quiver, Eros drew another arrow. This one had a different colored shaft, and he hastily took aim and released his next shot. It struck Miss Elizabeth in the heart. The effects of this one were less obvious; the amused twist of her mouth became a bit more cynical, and the humorous glint in her eyes turned a little flinty.
“You have done it now my love,” Psyche sighed.
“I have done nothing wrong,” he protested. “The effects are temporary. Darcy is now on his way toward loving Elizabeth; I see no reason to make his path to happy ever after easy. He is evidently a man who expects to get what he desires the second he decides he wants it. Let this be a lesson to him.”
Psyche rubbed her temples with her fingers. “I have long since given up arguing with you when you set your mind to something. Temporary the effects may be, but you have decidedly complicated their journey. Do not forget that we cannot force them to fall in love.”
“If it is meant to be, it will be,” Eros quipped.
“Even some things that are meant to be can be interrupted due to the choices of others,” Psyche said softly. She said no more, turning away and disappearing amongst the merry mortals.
AUTHOR BIO; MJ Stratton is a long-time lover of Jane Austen and her works, having been introduced to Pride and Prejudice by a much-beloved aunt at the age of sixteen. The subsequent discovery of Austenesque fiction sealed her fate. After beta reading and editing for others for nearly a decade, MJ started publishing her own work in 2022. MJ balances being a wife and mother with writing, gardening, sewing, and many other favorite pastimes. She lives with her husband and four children in the small, rural town where she grew up.
GIVEAWAY TIME! Good luck everyone! MJ Stratton has been kind enough to offer up a giveaway where you can win a copy of this book.
Hello all and welcome back! Wow what a week I have had so far at university! A teacher has been ill, and law class is a dry if interesting study with a TON of reading, and administration/coordination is heapting reading upon us! And it’s still 3 months away from exam time! But today I am glad to welcome back, Christine Combe, and her wonderful new series, “The Husbands of Elizabeth Bennet”, some of you might have followed the process on fanfiction or some of you might just have read the first book! But now, I will let Christine talk about her book! Welcome back, Christine!
Hello everyone! I am so very excited to be returning to Interests of a Jane Austen Girl to talk about my latest Austen variations, The Husbands of Elizabeth Bennet. That’s right, variations—there are two parts to this story!
In volume one…
In volume 2…
I do hope those blurbs intrigue you! Now to further reel you in, I’m going to teat you to another sneaky peek at volume one…
A good half hour had passed before Hill came to her door and informed her that Mr. Jones had done his work and gone, and that their guest had been dressed up well enough to have a visitor.
“Mr. Jones did say not to stay too long, as Mr. Faulkner needs his rest,” the housekeeper added. When they reached the guest room, she stopped and turned to the side and gestured for Elizabeth to go in. “I’ll leave the door open, miss.”
Elizabeth smiled at her. “I would expect nothing less, Mrs. Hill.”
She then entered the bedroom and saw that the patient was alone. He lay on the bed with his eyes closed, one hand over his stomach, the other beside him on the bed. He was dressed in a man’s nightshirt, from what she could see above the brown blanket that covered him from mid-torso down. A chair had been placed next to the bed on his left side, and she lowered herself into it quietly, so as not to disturb him.
His eyes opened languidly even as she was sitting. “So, you’ve come at last,” he drawled softly. “I began to think I should never see you.”
Elizabeth grinned. “Now sir, you know very well there are rules about a young, unmarried lady of genteel birth being alone with a gentleman, especially in his bedroom.”
Henry—Mr. Faulkner—returned her grin. “But this is not my bedroom.”
“It may as well be,” retorted Elizabeth.
His grin widened. “In any case, it pleases me you are unmarried. I should be loath to think I had been fantasizing about another man’s wife.”
“In that case, you might well be a singular fellow,” said Elizabeth, “as even a country squire’s sheltered daughter has heard that the taking of a mistress or two is common among the ton. But then you are not of that lot, are you? I found you wearing livery.”
She paused when his smile fell. “I should like to say again how very sorry I am about the footman and your employer.”
“Thank you, Miss Bennet. See? I have remembered your name.”
“And I now have your full name—Mrs. Hill called you Mr. Faulkner.”
Mr. Faulkner nodded. “Aye, my name is Henry Faulkner. Your father and the apothecary wished to know my full name, so I told them.”
He sighed then, and cocked his head slightly as he regarded her. “You are very pretty, you know, if you will forgive the observation of a stranger.”
“I thank you for the compliment, sir. But seeing as we have been introduced, we are no longer strangers,” said Elizabeth with a smile. Then Mr. Darcy’s comment at the Meryton assembly, where they had first met, flashed across her consciousness, and she could not stop herself asking, “Tell me, Mr. Faulkner, if you will… Were you to see me across a crowded assembly hall, would you think me not only tolerable, but handsome enough to dance with?”
“More than that, Miss Bennet—that smile, and those eyes, would make me want to know more about you the moment I laid eyes on you,” said Mr. Faulkner, before he frowned and added, “Don’t tell me some foolish young pup was so abominably rude as to say the opposite within your hearing?”
Elizabeth chuckled. “Unfortunately, yes, though I am certain I was not meant to hear it,” said she. “From what I have since learned of the gentleman in question, he was not in a good humor that evening and spoke only to stop his friend pestering him about dancing. He apparently does not care to dance unless he is intimately acquainted with his partner.”
“And how is a gentleman to get to know a lady unless he allows himself to be introduced to her? Foolish boy. In any case, it was ungentlemanly of him to say the words aloud, especially when there was even the remotest chance you might have heard,” said Mr. Faulkner. “You jest about it now, Miss Bennet, but I cannot imagine you were entirely unwounded.”
It was Elizabeth’s turn to sigh. “I own that I was not. However, I am over it, and can laugh about it now.”
She noted in that moment that he appeared to be struggling to stay awake. Rising to her feet, she offered him a smile. “I should go and let you rest. Per Mr. Jones’ orders, I was not to stay long.”
“I wish you could stay longer—a man likes to wake up to a pretty face whenever possible,” said Mr. Faulkner. “The way my day’s going, I’ll wake to some ruddy-faced old man wanting to take my leg off.”
“I do not believe the surgeon is old, though I cannot recollect his complexion,” said Elizabeth with a grin. “He will treat you well and save your leg if he can.”
“Oh, very well,” said Mr. Faulkner as he tried in vain to stifle a yawn. “If you must go, be gone. But pray, come see me again this evening, if your father permits it. I should not like to overstep his hospitality by tarnishing the reputation of his most charming daughter.”
“You flatter me too much, sir,” said Elizabeth. “Rest now. I will look in on you later if I am able.”
“Thank you, Miss Elizabeth Bennet. I should like to see you again,” Mr. Faulkner replied, before at last giving up the struggle to keep his eyes open.
Elizabeth departed his room, drawing the door closed behind her. She was amazed that he had stayed awake so long, given the severity of his injuries.
“Upon my word, Miss Lizzy,” said Hill, her voice startling Elizabeth. Whirling, she saw that the housekeeper was sitting in a chair just a few feet from the guest room.
“Hill! You gave me a fright. Have you been there all this time?”
“Of course, miss. Couldn’t leave you entirely unchaperoned, could I?” Hill replied.
Elizabeth chuckled softly. “I suppose not. Thank you for looking after me.”
“And a good thing I were, too,” said the housekeeper. “For I do believe that man in there was flirting with you.”
***
Well now, what do you think of that—was it a good teaser? I certainly hope so! Thanks for stopping by, and thanks to Sophia for having me. Tell me what you think in the comments below and remember to visit each blog on the tour and write down the keyword for each day. Comment on the last blog (All That They Desire) with the sentence the words create to enter for your chance to win print copies of both novels! Contest open worldwide!
Keyword: ELIZABETH
If for any reason you cannot comment on the last blog, reach out to Christine via email or Facebook with the full sentence to qualify for the drawing.
Both volumes of The Husbands of Elizabeth Bennet are available in ebook, paperback, and hardcover from Amazon. Also available to read in Kindle Unlimited.
Christine, like many a JAFF author before her, is a long-time admirer of Jane Austen‘s work, and she hopes that her alternate versions are as enjoyable as the originals. She has plans to one day visit England and take a tour of all the grand country estates which have featured in film adaptations, and often dreams of owning one. Christine lives in Ohio and is already at work on her next book.
Wow, I don’t know about you, dear readers, but I was just blow over with book 2! I have only read a little of book 1, but this just made me very eager to return to the books and read them both! But for now, this was it for this time around! Please leave a comment as Christine asks, and enjoy her visit with me! I’ll return soon with more books, reviews, guest posts and excerpts!
Hello all and welcome back! Today I am visited by a dear friend and author who have been hosted here, many a time about her books, namely; Jayne Bamber! She has just published her new book, “A quick succession of busy nothings” its a P&P mesh with Mansfield Park.
I will leave you in Jayne’s hands for now as she has allowed us a glimpse into this new book! Welcome back, Jayne!
It’s great to be back at Interests of a Jane Austen Girl to share an extra-long excerpt from my tenth novel, ‘A Quick Succession of Busy Nothings.’ Those of you who have been following my blog tour will know that this new release is a mash-up of Pride & Prejudice with Mansfield Park.
With Elizabeth Bennet and Mary Crawford as cousins, similar in appearance as well as in witty and bright personality, the assembly goes a little differently though Mr. Darcy’s insult remains the same….
***BLURB;
“Come, Lizzy,” Mary said, linking her arm through Elizabeth’s. “We have no partners; let us take a turn about the room. Our figures appear to best advantage when walking, and we have secret matters to discuss.”
Elizabeth acceded, and the two cousins began a slow circuit of the assembly room. “Your Mr. Bertram is an amiable neighbor,” Elizabeth observed, watching her cousin carefully. “His company is agreeable, though it has not inspired the same fanciful enthusiasm in my mother as his elder brother has – and so you are quite safe, Mary.”
Something in Mary’s eyes betrayed her for a moment, but she schooled her countenance as she addressed Elizabeth. “You mistake me – I meant only to ask how you enjoyed your set with Mr. Bingley. I danced the first with him and thought him a charming partner. He is an old friend of Henry’s, though I have only just made his acquaintance. I am still making my mind up about him, and I know you to be an excellent judge of character.”
Elizabeth arched an eyebrow. “Do you doubt yourself?”
“Never,” Mary drawled with a smirk. After a moment, she looked over at Elizabeth in all sincerity. “I confess I liked Mr. Bingley at once. He is everything a young man ought to be – sensible, good humored, lively….”
“And handsome,” Elizabeth interjected, watching as her cousin blushed. “Which a young man ought to be, if he possibly can.”
“You know of my preference for such open and engaging manners. His breeding is perhaps not ideal, but I could more easily look past that than….” This time Mary bit back the rest of her speech and looked away for a moment.
“Than the intent to take orders?” Elizabeth suggested, a silent challenge on her countenance.
“Edmund has not asked me to dance,” she said softly, fidgeting with her gloves. She finally looked back at Elizabeth and said, a little louder, “Well, Mr. Bingley was very kind in asking me to dance the first and the supper set as well. But I cannot decide if it is a compliment or a convenience, since you and Jane were already engaged for both sets.”
“Jane and I have known Mr. Bingley for an hour, Mary, and we do not share our mother’s belief that he is already the rightful property of one of us or the other. You need not be coy. If you like him, say so, and I shall wish you every joy.”
“Wish me joy?” Mary chortled and shook her head. “Perhaps you do favor your mother at times, for your imagination is very rapid. It jumps from admiration to love, and from love to matrimony in a moment. Wish me joy – pah!”
Elizabeth shared a look of mirth with Mary. “I shall wish you well, then, since you have admitted you admire him. You have liked many a stupider person, you know.”
“Certainly not!” Mary laughed in spite of herself. “In truth, I shall always be well disposed toward anybody who likes me first.”
“You do like to be first,” Elizabeth chided her cousin. “I know your ways. I think you wish to be first in every man’s estimation.”
“And yet Mr. Bingley is perfectly amiable to everybody, rather equally so,” Mary said. “It is terribly vexing.”
“And Edmund Bertram? Did he worship you above every other female?”
“There were only his sisters and cousin for comparison – this is my first encounter with him among so much society, and we have scarcely spoken. As to what he may choose to worship….”
“For what it is worth, he had promised to dance with all of us before he knew you would be in the area, and only after his brother had done the same,” Elizabeth said, giving her cousin’s arm a reassuring squeeze. “Perhaps he shall seek you out after supper.”
“It is of no importance to me, Lizzy. I bear him no ill will – beyond, I suppose, in wishing him a future bride who is not quite as near perfection as I – but truly, I have ceased to think of him in any particular way. His choice of profession remains a point of perpetual disagreement between us, and I am too stubborn to be moved on the matter.”
“Then I must once again wish you success with Mr. Bingley,” Elizabeth replied. “And with his sister as well.”
Mary screwed up her face. “Oh, Lizzy, I felt instinctively that you and I were of one mind on that score. She thinks rather too well of herself, does she not? Indeed, and am sure she thinks well only of herself – and perhaps Mr. Darcy. I shall admit it was amusing at first, but imagine having such a sister-in-law!”
“And now whose imagination is grown too rapid?” Elizabeth grinned brightly.
“Tease me all you like, but it is a serious consideration,” Mary said, holding her shoulders in a confident pose. “We ladies do not often get to make choices and decisions of much import, but there is one matter in particular that I intend to examine from every angle. I shall take no risks with my own future happiness.”
Elizabeth was inclined to agree with her cousin, though she had not the opportunity to say so. Caroline Bingley moved past them, obliging the two cousins to fall guiltily silent.
Miss Bingley was making haste to attach herself to Mr. Darcy, who had continued brooding silently in the corner with Mr. Fitzwilliam. Mary exchanged a devious look with Elizabeth, and then began to deliberately slow her steps, until they had come to a stop just beyond the unsociable trio.
The two mischievous cousins fanned themselves, smiling broadly at the general spectacle of the dancing before them, but their true focus was a few paces to their left.
“I believe I can guess the subject of your reverie,” Miss Bingley purred.
“I should imagine not,” Mr. Darcy replied.
“You are considering how insupportable it would be to pass many evenings in this manner, among such company. I am quite of the same opinion.”
Mr. Fitzwilliam’s chest rumbled with subdued laughter. “I am sorry our dance together was not satisfactory, Miss Bingley.”
“That is not at all what I mean, sir. I am sure the only desirable companions in the county must be found at Netherfield – but this place – the country manners, the vulgarity! The set was such a crush that I am sure the performance was not a credit to either of us, Mr. Fitzwilliam, though I do generally enjoy the amusement. I know you to be an excellent dancer, Mr. Darcy, though you have not chosen to participate in the revelry yet.”
Miss Bingley’s posture stiffened, and her chest moved forward and up a little as she waited for Mr. Darcy to ask her to dance.
“Do not think to demur on my account,” Mr. Fitzwilliam said. “You have lured me out into the world, but you need not hover over me every moment, Darcy. You had much better dance.”
“At such an assembly as this? It would be insupportable,” Mr. Darcy said gravely. “You have just declared that you did not enjoy it on this occasion, Miss Bingley, and there is nobody else present whom it would not be a punishment to stand up with.”
Mr. Fitzwilliam made an incredulous sound. “The Bennet sisters are reputed to be local beauties, are they not? I think them all perfectly lovely.”
Miss Bingley bristled at this. “Surely you jest.”
“Your brother is dancing with the eldest of them, I believe,” Mr. Fitzwilliam observed. “But I know you have never favored fair complexions, Darcy. There is one of the other sisters just over there – the young lady who strongly resembles Miss Crawford – I daresay she is in want of a partner.”
Elizabeth fixed her gaze straight ahead, but she could feel three sets of eyes alight on her. Mary nudged her, but Elizabeth held very still, listening intently.
“She is tolerable,” Mr. Darcy said. “But not handsome enough to tempt me. I am in no humor to give consequence to young ladies who are slighted by other men.”
Miss Bingley tittered maliciously. Mr. Fitzwilliam made some reply, but Elizabeth did not hear it. She laughed and turned to share the amusement with her cousin. “We are duly chastened for our eavesdropping, though really it is Miss Bingley who is to be pitied – she actually likes Mr. Darcy.”
Mary smiled, but the mirth did not reach her eyes. “Yes, poor Miss Bingley, to be the only lady present held in high esteem by the richest man in the room.”
“He is also the rudest man in the room,” Elizabeth countered.
“The very rich can afford to give offense wherever they like, I suppose,” Mary said coolly. “I need not care for his good opinion.”
Elizabeth laughed again, but regarded her friend quixotically. “Nor I – for I am the one he has deemed barely tolerable.”
“But you do not desire his good opinion,” Mary replied. “And you know that of all my cousins, you resemble me the most. You and Kitty, and Henry and I all favor our mothers, small and dark with a great deal of hair, while Jane and Lydia are tall and fair like your father. Lady Susan remarked on our resemblance, and Mr. Fitzwilliam just now. And so, you see, Mr. Darcy must think I am also barely tolerable.”
“You and I, and every lady in the room besides Miss Bingley,” Elizabeth reminded her. “But why should you desire his admiration? I thought it was Mr. Bingley who….”
“Mr. Bingley is an option, yes,” Mary agreed, keeping her voice low. “But I told you I meant to consider every angle. Mr. Darcy’s situation in life… well, a woman of my disposition would be willing to put up with a lot to become mistress of the grandest estate in Derbyshire.”
“I daresay any woman shall have to,” Elizabeth drawled. “Though I could more easily forgive his vanity had he not wounded mine. But no matter – you are such a large party at Netherfield that I doubt I shall ever have occasion to speak to Mr. Darcy, which is just what I should like. And I advise you to think no more of his insult, which signifies greater defects in him than either of us.”
“You are right,” Mary admitted. “I ought not let it vex me. Perhaps, in time, he may find me more tolerable than you.”
“And even if he does not,” Elizabeth quipped, “you shall have quite enough to agonize over in choosing between Mr. Bingley and Mr. Edmund Bertram.”
“The agony, I assure you, shall be entirely theirs,” Mary declared in such a way as to signal that she wished to jest her way out of the uncomfortable turn of conversation.
Elizabeth thought the matter dropped. She cared little for Mr. Darcy’s opinion, for he could amuse her very well indeed without troubling himself to think of her at all. His character was fixed in her mind as proud and disagreeable, but he was very likely to continue entertaining her without being much aware of it himself. She could not wait for her father to behold such a paragon of conceit, for he enjoyed such folly as much as she.
Mary, however, was not content to let the matter rest. She danced the supper set with Mr. Bingley while Elizabeth partnered Henry, and the four of them all sat down to dine together. Mary could not resist herself, and certain of having Mr. Bingley’s attention, she addressed her brother.
“I hope you have not overimbed, Henry, for you may be obliged to awaken very early tomorrow. I know you have always liked to style yourself the sort of romantic hero who would fight a duel to defend a woman’s honor, and mine has been thoroughly misaligned – and Lizzy’s, too.”
Henry responded to her teasing tone with more of the same. “Pistols at dawn it is, then!”
“Miss Crawford, what has happened?” Mr. Bingley looked plaintively between Mary and Elizabeth, and Mary described the offense with rather less embellishment than Elizabeth had expected.
Henry gasped and scoffed and gave every other indication of being deeply aghast; Mary swatted at his exaggeration, which made the matter seem small indeed. Mr. Bingley, however, was clearly agitated.
Elizabeth attempted to reassure him. “Truly, sir, it is not worth vexing yourself over such a trifle – I do not mean to do so. You have told me Mr. Darcy is shy and reserved, and so I can excuse his being unwilling to dance with strangers. You said he was in ill humor, and I am perfectly willing to suppose his worry for his cousin and sister must render him thus.”
Mr. Bingley looked prodigiously relieved. “Yes, exactly so. He is out of sorts tonight, though he ought not to have said such a thing – I am sure he had no notion of his comment being overheard – and Caroline does have an uncanny way of getting generally nice people to say unkind things, which I have often had to speak to her about.”
Elizabeth and Mary once again shared a secret look between them; Miss Bingley’s sour hauteur promised to be an unceasing source of private amusement for them. Mr. Bingley, however, was determined to delight them in the usual style, with happy manners and warm praise. He apologized for his friend and assured both the ladies that he had never seen such pretty ladies or pleasant company in all his life – and that if Mr. Darcy gave them any further offense, he should be the one to call his friend out himself.
“That is hardly necessary,” Elizabeth said gaily. “Mary and I may be the injured party, but I must hazard a guess that we are still enjoying the assembly substantially more. From the look of your friend, his own determination to be displeased has caused him to suffer enough.”
They all glanced in Mr. Darcy’s direction – he sat predictably dull and silent with his cousin across the room. As if feeling their gaze, he looked up and stared back. Mary, Henry, and Mr. Bingley all looked away, but Elizabeth did not. Neither did Mr. Darcy. Their eyes burned into one another for a minute more, and Elizabeth gave the barest of smiles. He looked away first.
Elizabeth felt his discomfort must be some justice, and so she was satisfied.
Thank you, Jayne! Wow, I am looking forward to reading the rest of this amazing book! It sounds like Mary and Lizzie will be up to some mischief with the large party at Netherfield Park!
Dear all, welcome back! Today I am proud to welcome a group of wonderful authors who I have followed quite a few months now. So therefore I welcome the group of ladies who wrote “Mr. Darcy and the Enchanted Library”
BLURB;
Mr. Darcy and the Enchanted Library;
When Fitzwilliam Darcy’s sister lies dying from a magical ailment, the only person who can help is Elizabeth Bennet, the powerful Librarian of the Great Library – the same woman he abandoned five years earlier.
Elizabeth can’t forget Darcy’s refusal to believe in her magical ability, even now that she has a griffin familiar. However, as the Librarian, duty compels her to help him. Together, they undertake a quest to the Faerie Realm to find a cure, encountering dangerous magical creatures along the way.
An even greater danger lurks in their own hearts. After their heartbreak five years earlier, can they stop themselves from falling in love all over again? And what will happen when they discover that Georgiana Darcy’s illness is intertwined with a danger that threatens all of England?
Mr. Darcy and the Enchanted Library began as an interactive group writing project. In response to enthusiastic readers, the authors have revised and expanded this second chance, forced proximity romantasy based on Jane Austen’s Pride & Prejudice.
Now, I will welcome the ladies who have written this magical adventure; welcome ladies.
Hello Sophia! Thank you for welcoming us to your blog. Mr. Darcy and the Enchanted Library is a unique project, a collaboration of the six Magical Austen authors: Abigail Reynolds, Monica Fairview, Victoria Kincaid, Sarah Courtney, Melanie Rachel, and Lari Ann O’Dell. Based on suggestions from readers, the story was originally written as a round robin. Each author wrote a chapter which was released once a week. The resulting story was so well received by readers that we decided to edit it and turn it into a novel.
AUTHOR BIOS;
Abigail Reynolds may be a nationally bestselling author and a physician, but she can’t follow a straight line with a ruler. Originally from upstate New York, she studied Russian and theater at Bryn Mawr College and marine biology at the Marine Biological Laboratory in Woods Hole. After a stint in performing arts administration, she decided to attend medical school, and took up writing as a way to retain her sanity during her years as a physician in private practice. She’s currently at work on the first book of a new magical Pride & Prejudice trilogy.
A life-long lover of Jane Austen’s novels, Abigail began writing variations on Pride & Prejudice in 2001, then expanded her repertoire to include a series of novels set on her beloved Cape Cod. Her most recent releases are The Pride of Pride,A Matter of Honor,Mr. Darcy’s Enchantment, and Conceit & Concealment. Her books have been translated into six languages. She lives on Cape Cod with her husband, her son and a menagerie of animals. Her hobbies do not include sleeping or cleaning her house.
Monica Fairview, the author of Pride and Prejudice variations and Magical Austenesque fantasy, Monica Fairview has been publishing since 2009. In the past, she worked as a literature professor and an acupuncturist. Now she spends her life in 19th century England, interacting with strong ladies in bonnets and handsome gentlemen in cravats and waistcoats.
Born in London, Monica lived in the USA for many years. She now resides close to Box Hill, where Jane Austen’s Emma went for a picnic. Monica loves to read until past midnight, chuckle, and visit historic locations. Sometimes she enjoys doing nothing at all.
Melanie Rachel is a university professor and long time Jane Austen fan. She was born in Southern California, but has also lived in Pennsylvania, New Jersey, Washington, and Arizona, where she now resides with her family and their freakishly athletic Jack Russell terrier.
Victoria Kincaid is the author of several popular Jane Austen variations, including The Secrets of Darcy and Elizabeth, Pride & Proposals, Mr. Darcy to the Rescue, When Mary Met the Colonel, and Darcy vs. Bennet. All of her books have been listed in Amazon’s Top 20 Bestselling Regency Romances. The Secrets of Darcy and Elizabeth was nominated for a Rone award and Pride and Proposals was recognized as a top Austenesque novel for 2015 by Austenesque Reviews.
Victoria has a Ph.D. in English literature and has taught composition to unwilling college students. Today she teaches business writing to willing office professionals and tries to give voice to the demanding cast of characters in her head.
She lives in Virginia with an overly affectionate cat, an excessively energetic dog, two children who love to read, and a husband who fortunately is not jealous of Mr. Darcy. A lifelong Austen fan, Victoria has read more Jane Austen variations and sequels than she can count – and confesses to an extreme partiality for the Colin Firth miniseries version of Pride and Prejudice.
Lari Ann O’Dell first discovered her love of Pride & Prejudice when she was eighteen. After reading a Pride & Prejudice variation she found in a closing sale at a bookstore, she said, “This is what I want to do.” She published her first novel, Mr. Darcy’s Kiss, two years later.
Born and raised in Colorado, she attended the University of Colorado in Boulder and earned a bachelor’s degree in History and Creative Writing. After graduating college, she wrote and published her second novel, Mr. Darcy’s Ship. Her third novel, Mr. Darcy’s Clan, is her first supernatural variation. While earning a degree in Nursing, she wrote and published her fourth novel, Mr. Darcy’s Phoenix. She adores her three beautiful nephews, Hudson, Dean, and Calvin. She now works as a Registered Nurse on a surgical unit and writes whenever she can.
Sarah Courtney has been addicted to reading since she first learned how. She carried books with her everywhere . . to sports games (professional sports games required two books!), school, bus rides and car trips, and even when her parents told her to “go outside and play.” She finds time for reading now by doing most of it on her Kindle app, which means that she can read while walking down the stairs, waiting in line, making dinner . . .
Sarah loves to read fantasy and fairy tale interpretations, Agatha Christie’s mysteries, romantic suspense/action, and especially variations of Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice.
Sarah tried her hand at writing numerous times as a child, but never stuck it out long enough to finish a book. When she discovered that there was an entire fandom dedicated to her favorite author, Jane Austen, she was inspired to write her first novel.
Sarah homeschools her six children, ages three through fourteen (which means that she will now always have at least one teenager for the next . . . sixteen years!). She is constantly asked, “How do you find time to write?” The answer is simply that you find the time to do the things you love. Also, getting the laundry put away is highly overrated.
The amazing ladies have allowed me to present a view into the book, so I hereby present an
EXCERPT;
Darcy straightened as the doctor emerged from Georgiana’s sickroom. Before the maid closed the door, he caught a glimpse of his sister’s wan, thin face resting on her pillow, her eyes closed in exhaustion.
“Well?” Darcy demanded.
The man shifted his bag from one hand to another. “There is no improvement, as you are no doubt aware. I have given her a sleeping remedy to make her more comfortable, but there is no cure I can offer for a magical malady. Have you consulted a medical mage?”
“Yes.” Every single one he could bribe or threaten to make the journey to Pemberley to examine Georgiana, and they had all said the same thing – that this was beyond their abilities.
“I am sorry, sir.” The doctor bowed and left, taking Darcy’s last scrap of hope with him.
He rubbed the back of his neck as the doctor’s footsteps faded away. Surely there must be something he could do! But Georgiana would need time to recover from the doctor’s visit before he could sit with her again, and he had exhausted his last lead. No amount of brooding would help her.
All that was left was for him to distract himself. He might as well be useful, so he headed to his study and the long-neglected pile of mail his secretary had left him.
The first few were invitations which he pushed aside. As if he had any desire to be entertained! Then he spotted the familiar spiky handwriting of Lady Catherine de Bourgh on the next envelope. With a groan, he broke the seal.
My dear nephew,
I will waste no time in coming to the point. The Patronesses of Magic have met, and we are in unanimous agreement that you must marry immediately. We are well aware of your objections to the idea, but now that Georgiana cannot produce an heir to Pemberley, it is time for you to give up your stubbornness and do your duty. Anne is awaiting your proposal —
With an oath, he crumpled the letter and threw it into the fire. Devil take her! How dare she assume that Georgiana would die! And he was not a breeding stud to answer to her demands.
His fingers reached out to stroke the left-hand drawer of his desk in the familiar spot where the finish was shiny from all the times he had undertaken the same action. Everything he had left of Elizabeth Bennet was in that drawer – the few notes she had written him, the sketch her sister had drawn of her. Five years, and the wounds were still fresh.
And the damnable thing was that his aunt was right. For Pemberley’s sake, he did need to marry, intolerable as it might be.
A voice whispered inside his head. Hespera, his griffin familiar. There is important news afoot. The Great Library has reappeared at last.
It took a moment to sink in, but then Darcy jumped to his feet. Are you certain? It is open?
I just received word. It is certain.
The Great Library, home to the spell books that just might hold the answers to Georgiana’s illness. It had been inaccessible for half a dozen years, since the death of the last Librarian. And now it was open again.
Excitement filled his throat. At last, a ray of hope! We will leave for Oxford immediately, he told her. He had no intention of allowing Georgiana to suffer for a minute longer than necessary.
***
Darcy told Hespera to circle three times before gliding down into the square in front of the Great Library. He could feel the griffin’s annoyance at the extra effort after the long flight, but the people of Oxford needed the advance warning. Even on the first high circle, he could see people looking up and starting to run at the sight of the griffin.
He shook his head in annoyance. He would never have brought the griffin into a city if the Library did not require the presence of his familiar.
The square was almost empty by the time Hespera’s paws touched down on the cobblestones. Her eagle’s head turned from side to side, and she spoke in his head. What an interesting place, even if the inhabitants are cowards.
He swung his leg over her back and dismounted. Those who have never seen a live griffin before are naturally in awe, he told her. He needed her to be on her best behavior today, and that meant placating her vanity.
That building has statues of griffins. There is something odd about them, though.
They guard the library with magic and are the first test we must pass, Darcy said. The two stone griffins held crossed swords which barred entry to the great metal doors. Come.
He drew in a deep breath before leading the griffin to stand in front of the imposing statues. This should be the easiest of the tasks he would face, but it was magic far beyond his understanding, and so much depended upon it. Steeling himself, Darcy said, “We beg leave to enter the Great Repository.” No one ever called it that in this modern age, but the tests relied on using the library’s proper name.
At first nothing happened, but then a grinding sound began. The doors swung open, and the two statues raised their stone swords to allow Darcy and Hespera to pass.
It was uncanny to see, even though he had known what would happen. Mages had been arguing for centuries over how it worked – both how the statues moved and how they knew to admit only those with magical familiars. Not to mention how this relatively small building could possibly contain the hundreds of rooms that comprised the Great Library. If the fae who had built the Library knew the answers, they were not sharing them with mortals.
A prickle went down Darcy’s spine as he walked between the stone swords. Hespera trailed a few steps behind him. She disliked being indoors, but he had promised her a new gold chain for her cooperation.
Beyond the doors was a courtyard paved in cobblestones. On the far side of the courtyard was another set of double doors that opened to reveal a long columned room that would not have looked out of place in a Roman palace, its marble walls lined with portraits of elderly women, some dressed in the manner of medieval times. A few men, too, but mostly women. It was completely unfurnished apart from a desk where sat a dark-skinned man in an embroidered cap. In front of him lay a closed ledger and an inkwell.
Darcy approached the desk. “I wish to see the Librarian,” he said firmly. “I am Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley, and my familiar is Hespera.”
The scribe gave him the barest glance and opened the ledger to a blank page with two columns. “Welcome to the Gallery of Librarians. Your name does not matter here, only your motives and actions. Why do you wish to see the Librarian?”
“My sister is deathly ill from an unknown magical malady. We believe that the cure may lie in the Library’s spell books.”
The man made a careful check mark in the right-hand column. “Your concern for your sister is laudable, but the world is full of people who are deathly ill. Why does your sister deserve to be saved?”
How dare he ask such a question? But with Georgiana’s life at stake, Darcy had no choice but to answer. “My sister is responsible for many lives. She and her seal familiar sail with the Navy, and her magic has saved hundreds of sailors from drowning.”
The scribe dipped his quill in the inkwell but hesitated over the ledger. “She has saved British sailors.” He sounded dubious, leaning forward enough to reveal pointed ears beside his embroidered hat. A fae!
Darcy swallowed hard. “Yes. A great many of them.”
The fae man studied the ledger with a frown, and then placed a tick in the left-hand column. “The Great Library takes no sides in wars. Why else does she deserve to live?”
Darcy’s breath caught in his chest. If Georgiana’s work was not enough, what hope could there be? But he had to try. “She has a rare talent for music. Her playing often brings tears to people’s eyes.” And he might never hear her play again. “She is but twenty years of age and is all that is generous and kind.”
The fae made a tiny tick in the right-hand column. “What else?”
Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley, Griffin Keeper, never had to beg for anything, and to do so now gave him a sickening sensation. “I love her dearly. She is my only remaining family, and I would be bereft without her. I would give my own life to save hers.”
But it earned him another check in the right-hand column, so it was worth it. He would beg all day to get inside the library if that was what it took.
“You say she is your only family, yet is that not your own doing? Is there a reason you have not married and expanded your family?”
Darcy’s stomach churned. It had to be magic, that this stranger could so quickly narrow in his most painful vulnerability, something that he never spoke of. But if it would save Georgiana, he would humiliate himself utterly. “Some years ago, there was a woman I wished to marry, but I was persuaded against the match owing to her lack of magic,” he said in a clipped voice. “I would have been neglecting my duty and harming my family if I married her. But I wish most dearly she could have been my wife.”
The fae’s expression did not change. “If that was years ago, you have had plenty of time to marry another, more suitable woman.”
A surge of bile rose in his throat. “Do you think it is acceptable to marry one woman while my heart belongs to another? I do not, and I will not. They said I would forget my first love quickly. Perhaps someday I shall, but that day has not come yet. And so my sister is all I have. I will do anything for her.”
A check in the right-hand column. Thank God!
The scribe closed the ledger. “You may present your case to Abraxas. I will take you to the courtyard, where you will await him.”
He had done it, made it past the first line of questioning! But it was only one step, and everyone said that gaining the Librarian’s approval was the hardest part. “I thank you.”
***
Fortunately for Darcy’s sanity, the next test proved embarrassingly easy, which gave him time to regain his shattered equilibrium. Even after all these years, speaking of Elizabeth hurt.
This, in comparison, was nothing. True, it would be a severe trial of most men’s courage to face the full-grown griffin at close quarters, but not for a Griffin Keeper like Darcy. Not to mention that he had his own griffin by his side.
The griffin Abraxas seemed far more interested in Hespera than Darcy in any case. After briefly asking Darcy to state his business, he engaged in a long silent conversation with Hespera, one which left her tossing her head in annoyance.
Finally, Abraxas spoke to Darcy, This way. You must go alone; your griffin will remain here.
Darcy followed him through a winding stone corridor with deep-set closed doors to each side. At the foot of a narrow circular staircase, the griffin lifted his front paw. “You will find the Librarian in the room above.”
But when Darcy reached the top, there were three doors. Only one of them was open, so he chose that one and stepped inside.
The room was surprisingly lofty and large. Sunlight filtered in through high arched windows, illuminating bookshelves that lined each wall, rising at least twenty feet, if not more. The air was redolent with the dusty vanilla scent of old leather-bound books, and a hint of lavender teased his senses with its familiarity.
But there was no Librarian to be seen, only a young woman perched atop a ladder replacing a book on a shelf. Perhaps she could give him further directions.
He cleared his throat. “Good afternoon, Miss. I wonder if you could assist me–”
His stomach dropped as she turned to face him. It could not be. He blinked his eyes twice, as if that could change his vision.
Victoria Kincaid as a spokeswoman for the ladies, have allowed me to give you, dear readers, a chance to win 1 copy of the ebook! So leave a comment and I will let Victoria know whom shall win and send you the ebook. Good luck!
Or you can join the giveaway here on Austen Variations;
Hello to all, dear readers! So Valentines Day is approaching, and I am visited by Riana Everly and her co-authors from “With Love, Mr. Darcy” We are to discuss Valentines Day’s history, and how it has changed throughout the centuries. Therefore, I will leave you all in the capable hands of Riana for now. Welcome, dear ladies and welcome to Interests of a Jane Austen Girl.
Do you love Valentine’s Day? Roll your eyes at it? Wait until February 15 and then go and buy yourself all the chocolate that’s gone on sale?
No matter what you usually think about this day dedicated to love, this year you’ll want to celebrate because we’ve just released this fabulous anthology, With Love, Mr Darcy, and we want to thank Sophia for letting us stop by her lovely blog to talk about it.
First, who are we? We’re six JAFF authors who love Mr Darcy and who love Jane Austen’s legacy, and want to do what we can to preserve it for future generations, while giving our readers a Valentine in turn. Michelle d’Arcy, Elin Eriksen, Riana Every, Iris Lim, Laura Moretti, and S. Neha have all put their hearts into the short stories (well, more like short novellas, really) in this collection.
And this anthology? How does it help Jane Austen’s legacy? Well, all proceeds from sales and KU page reads are being donated to the Jane Austen’s House Museum in Chawton, UK!
But enough about us. What is Valentine’s Day, anyway? How did it become associated with a day of romantic love? Here’s a very short history for you.
Many scholars believe Valentine’s Day was a Christianisation of the Roman feast of Lupercalia, which was celebrated on the Ides of February (February 15). This was a fertility festival, complete with animal sacrifices and fertility rites. The stories say that the single young women of Rome would put their names in a large urn and the single young men would then select one, to be paired with for a year. Many of these matches ended in marriage.
Later, this day became associated with Saint Valentine, whose feast day is February 14.
It’s a bit unclear who, exactly, Saint Valentine was. There are three early Christian saints named Valentinus, all of whom have some association with love. Was it the priest who defied Claudius II’s edict that young men should remain single (and therefore better soldiers) by conducting marriages in secret? Was it Bishop Valentine of Terni who was also martyred by Claudius II on February 14? Or was it the man convicted of helping Christians escape from Roman prisons, who fell in love with his jailor’s daughter, and who sent her a last note before his death, signed “From your Valentine” (except, presumably, in Latin)? Or were these three all the same person, with different stories attributed to him? Historians, if you know more, please weigh in!
No matter the historical veracity of these tales, Saint Valentine as an ideal was associated with sympathy, heroism, and the persuit of True Love, and by the Middle Ages, he was one of the most popular saints in England and France.
Geoffrey Chaucer was the first person we know who mentioned Valentine’s Day in association with romantic love. In “Parliament of Foules,” written in 1375, he wrote, “For this was sent on Seynte Valentyne’s day/ When every foul cometh ther to choose his mate.”
By 1400, it was not uncommon to send written Valentines to one’s love, and by the mid-1700s, friends and lovers alike often sent little tokens of affection—romantic or platonic—in the form of handwritten notes. As printing technology improved, these handwritten notes often became printed notes, which people still love to send.
We hope we’ve continued this tradition by imagining our favourite couple around Valentine’s Day, and wondering how the romance of the season might bring them closer to their Happily Ever After.
Today I am particularly pleased to welcome back, MJ Stratton and her new P&P variation, “No less than any other” which I will admit have taken quite a special place in my heart, lately! Firstly, I will allow MJ to present the book via a blurb.
BLURB;
Elizabeth Bennet is not the son and heir her mother wished, much to Mrs. Bennet’s despair. But all was not lost, for soon after her second daughter’s birth, Mrs. Bennet delivered a son. Tom Bennet, born just minutes after his sister, was their family’s savior from the moment he took his first breath.
Tom Bennet’s peculiar nature soon sets him apart from others around him. His striking intelligence, key in aiding his family, paired with his many oddities leaves those around him with many differing opinions. None, though, are more dedicated to his well-being than his twin sister Elizabeth.
The closer to reaching their majority the twins get, the more frantic Mrs. Bennet is, for should anything befall Tom, her hopes and security will be dashed. She is determined that her girls must marry wealthy, eligible men as an extra precaution.
When Netherfield Park is let at last and is filled with eligible men, Mrs. Bennet sees her chance to ensnare at least one wealthy man for her daughters. But will the rumors of heartless neighbors prevent the new tenants from forming any serious designs on any of the Bennet daughters?
“No Less Than Any Other” is a sweet and clean Pride and Prejudice variation.
MY REVIEW;
We all know the usual start to P&P, but not this time! Because this time Mrs Bennet gives birth to twins, a dark haired girl, over whom she despairs – and a little boy! The saviour of Longbourn! But not all is well with the little master-to-be of Longbourn, who prefers his sister to all else.
I will admit I as a frequent reader of Austen variations, I find it hard to believe a mother can treat children so differently as we see Mr & Mrs Bennet do, both in Austen’s original work and MJ’s.
But as Mrs Bennet exclaims, “We are saved!” with the birth of Tommy Bennet. But it is Lizzie who makes sure that Tommy’s ‘deficiences’ are less noticable and is taught how to function from his sister. I will admit that within pages, my head was screaming, “OMG! MJ has a character with Autismn! Bravo!” As a person who has close ties with the Autismn community, I was very delighted with MJ’s book and the way she had given several characters traits of Autismn. The plot was amazing, including the rumours of madness, Darcy’s usual pride and a Bingley who isn’t a flirty spineless boy.
I loved the book and most of the characters! And, of course, there’s the typical Darcy prideful proposal, but the romance is there in spades! And the HEA is so satisfying! Though I did have another wish for two characters, but it was so good , and so well written and I can only congratulate MJ and applaud her bravery of opening up the Austen universe to Autismn!
I will admit I was very pleased with MJ’s writing, especially as Autism was focus in this new book. As a reader and blogger, I know the subject of autism is heavily frowned upon and people are prejudiced against, what they don’t understand, people who are ‘different’.
But people who are ‘different’ doesn’t mean that different is bad or wrong, but people with autism do think somewhat differently, and see social situations through other eyes. The social situations we see several examples of in MJ’s book, especially seen by Tommy and Lizzie, and even Mary.
But, of course, Autism is a broad spectrum with many diagnoses which gives many different symptoms, with many levels of severity.
In the book and real world of Autism; communication and how to interact with others, seem like the most common trait between people with an Autism diagnosis, like we see with Tommy in the book, and how he prefers the company of his family, or people he can predict/or understand. It is also why many autistic people prefers smaller groups of friends or people around them, since its easier to “read” people, when there’s less of them.
That’s all for now, dear readers. I hope you enjoyed my review and the visit of MJ Stratton. I will be back soon with more books, reviews and guest apperances.
Today I am hosting Caroline Cartier, and her P&P variation, “Not without affection” and I do promise that it’s full of drama! Several characters we tend to like are presented in a whole new light, and to say I was surprised is an understatement! But for now I will let Caroline show us a bit from her book. Do note there is a Giveaway at the end for a giftcard to Amazon for 25 dollars!
EXCERPT;
Elizabeth changed into her dressing gown, pulled her hair into a tight chignon, and waited with Lydia as the house settled and quieted. At four o’clock, when she was certain everyone had fallen asleep, she silently changed into her travelling gown and waited in a chair by the door with her boots and her valise by her side. Lydia waited with her, wide-eyed and silent, the only time Elizabeth had ever seen her youngest sister so quiet. Elizabeth attempted to read, but she was so nervous she could not concentrate, and at half past five she slipped the book into her bag, kissed her sister on the forehead, and silently opened the door and passed through, making no noise. She had made certain to oil the hinge earlier in the day. By mutual agreement, Lydia stayed behind rather than follow her sister downstairs. Elizabeth tiptoed down the hall and descended the stairs very slowly, avoiding the ones that she knew from memory made noise, and doing her best to be careful not to overly disturb her still extremely tender foot. When she reached the front door, she opened it, slipped outside, and sat on the bottom step to pull on her boots and laced them tightly about her ankle. Pulling her pelisse about herself, she made her way along the side of the house, and entered the rose garden. Mr Darcy was waiting by pre-arrangement, and he quickly and silently took her bag and lifted her up into the saddle of his horse. This, Elizabeth had not been prepared for and she gasped and grasped the pommel in terror. She could hardly have supposed he would carry her all the way, and she gritted her teeth and held on tightly as Mr Darcy began to lead the horse slowly down a nearby path heading to the north. They spoke not at all. Elizabeth’s heart was in her throat in fear, and Darcy was concentrating on leading the horse silently by the light of the full moon. They travelled the path in silence for nearly twenty minutes in the dark, until they came to a lane, where a very comfortable-looking carriage and four awaited. Mr Darcy lifted her down from his horse and put her valise into the carriage on the rear-facing seat. Then he went into his saddlebag and removed a small parcel from Netherfield’s kitchens, with some meat, cheese, soft sliced bread, and a large flask of cider, still hot. “Miss Elizabeth, I wish you a safe journey. I shall leave Meryton tomorrow and I will call upon your uncle when I return to town.” Elizabeth thanked him profusely for his assistance and accepted his hand up into the carriage. When the conveyance began to move, Elizabeth fell upon the meal that had been provided. She had eaten little at supper the night before, her nerves having the better of her, and now her appetite was making itself known. She ate perhaps half of the food and a bit of the cider, and feeling full and fatigued, she slipped quickly into an exhausted, fitful sleep. She slept for three hours, waking just before the carriage entered London. She smoothed her hair and prepared herself to explain her actions to her aunt and uncle, praying that they, like the Bennets, would not turn on her unexpectedly and require her to sacrifice herself. She wished to believe her uncle could never be so cruel, but a small, insecure voice whispered in the back of her mind that when Mr Bennet died, Uncle Gardiner would be expected to assist them, and he may regard Elizabeth’s defection in the same manner that her motherand sisters had done.
SYNOPSIS; When Mr Collins visits Longbourn, Elizabeth Bennet is shocked by the sycophantic behaviour of her family toward the Longbourn heir. Mrs Bennet declares that any of her daughters had better accept the man if he offers for them, and Elizabeth quickly comes to suspect that her father will not defend them should they wish to refuse. Despite her protestations, Elizabeth finds herself engaged to her cousin against her will and her sisters turned against her, showing Elizabeth harsh revelations about Jane’s true character. She makes plans to escape the untenable situation, with help from Charlotte, and surprisingly, Mr Darcy, but the marriage moves forward despite their efforts and Lizzy is forced to accept her fate. When Elizabeth is unexpectedly relieved of her unwanted husband, her new friends at Rosings support her as she builds her new life, while Mr Darcy is relieved to have a chance to win her heart but knows he must wait to court her to preserve her reputation. While he suffers the long wait of her mourning until she can be courted, Elizabeth must decide if she is willing to try again, as estate matters and other parties threaten to end the match before it is made in this 68,000-word Pride and Prejudice Variation.
So what say you, dear readers, I would certainly think this was a book worth reading! A lot of drama, or so it sounds like, but my guess is Elizabeth and Darcy will see their HEA in the end after much drama!
AUTHOR BIO; Caroline Cartier is an anglophile in her early forties, living out her happily ever after in New England with her very own Darcy. She is mom to an extraordinary young woman who is an English major, two cats, and a spaniel (co-author) named Belle. Having cut her teeth on the Tudors and Mary Queen of Scots with the historical fiction of Jean Plaidy and Victoria Holt at sixteen, Caroline read her way through the histories of the Monarchs of England and France, settling into an abiding love for Regency fiction in her twenties. Her first Jane Austen Variation was Mr Darcy’s Diary by Amanda Grange. Several years later, a free trial of Kindle Unlimited opened a whole new world of Austenesque fiction. After reading what feels like hundreds of variations, Caroline began her first writing project in 2021, The Victorian Vagaries, a Victorian Pride and Prejudice Quartet that will be published in 2024. Having been a gushing member of many fandoms in her time, Caroline takes great enjoyment in historical fiction, fantasy, and YA fiction, and enjoys the works of Rick Riordan, Angie Sage, James Patterson (the Max Ride series), Stephanie Meyers, Suzanne Collins, J.K Rowling, L M Montgomery, Louisa May Alcott, and of course the father of fantasy, J R R Tolkien. She takes her inspiration for writing from the wonderful authors of Austenesque literature and the romance series of Stephanie Laurens, Julia Quinn, and Lisa Kleypas, in addition to other historical romances and television period dramas.
Happy New Year to all! It’s been a while since I have been posting anything, but this time around, I am visited by a new author, I have only known by name; Laura Moretti. She has written several romance P&P books. And she is the author who is visiting my blog today. Welcome to my blog, Laura!
Heartbroken is a modern P&P book, as you will all see in the excerpt, which Laura have allowed me to post.
EXCERPT;
Elizabeth wakes up in a hospital bed.
“Shh,” her dad says. So much affection in his voice. “Shh, sweetheart, don’t move. You’re fine. Everything’s fine.”
“Shh,” Darcy says, caressing her brow. “You’re fine. Everything’s fine.”
Darcy isn’t really there, of course.
* * *
Consciousness, and fading again.
It gets better.
* * *
One day later. Elizabeth is indeed fine. Eating hospital food, clean hospital sheets, clean pale walls.
“I, um, I texted Darcy about you,” Jane says.
Sitting in the grey hospital chair, holding magazines and sweets. “When I picked up your phone,” Jane adds, “I saw you’d been texting Darcy all night, and I thought… Maybe… But…”
Jane pauses. Elizabeth’s focusing on her spinach.
“Is something going on between you two?” Jane asks. Elizabeth hesitates. “You don’t have to tell me,” her sister adds hastily.
Elizabeth decides against the spinach. She puts sugar in her hospital coffee. A lot of sugar. Cause, you know.
“No, nothing’s going on. Well, we’ve been fighting. By text.”
“Why?” Jane asks.
Good question.
* * *
As soon as Jane is gone, Elizabeth grabs her phone.
She reads Darcy’s texts.
— Elizabeth, please listen to me. Please. I never said that you were lower class. Just the opposite. I expressed, too strongly it seems, how much I admired you, your character, your kindness, your fire. It was a mistake, a huge one; I completely misinterpreted our connection, I misinterpreted…well, everything. But I don’t want our exchanges to degenerate into bitterness and name calling. Please forget my earlier stupid attempts at sarcasm. Please forget everything I ever said or wrote to you, actually. —
— Elizabeth, are you OK? I just got Jane’s text. She said you’d hurt your head and they’re rushing you to hospital. Please give me news. —
— Elizabeth, Jane told me what happened. Thinking of you. —
— Elizabeth, Jane tells me you’ve woken up. How do you feel? —
Elizabeth.
Elizabeth, Elizabeth.
Like an invocation. Or a prayer. Elizabeth dozes on and off, still holding her phone. Darcy’s words dancing in her mind, mingling with his image—at the hospital (where he was not), stroking her head (which he didn’t). When Elizabeth wakes up, he’s sitting next to the bed. The impression is so strong, for a moment there she almost believes it.
* * *
One hour later. Her mind is clear. She sweet talks a nurse into getting her more coffee, and much more sugar. They share a few laughs. As soon as the nurse leaves, Elizabeth types:
— Darcy, —
She stops. She closes her eyes to think.
— Darcy, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Thank you for all your texts. Please consider that I am making an extremely dramatic gesture, like falling on my knees in supplication before you (but in a sophisticated, elegant way. Think Cleopatra-style.) When we texted, you were nothing but nice to me—and I was, well, yikes. And then we fought, and it was my fault. I don’t know what came over me. Again, so, so sorry. I hope you can forgive me. —
Send.
And then:
— Yes, I’m much better. It was a serious concussion, but I’m fine now. Going home tomorrow. Never slip on stew. It’s an important life lesson. See, at least one good thing came out of our relationship: you know now about the dangers of stew. —
Send.
* * *
Night falls.
Her phone beeps. Darcy.
— I don’t know how to answer that. —
Then, quickly, before Elizabeth has the time to get offended:
— Sorry, I realise the tone of my previous message could be misunderstood. I mean, I don’t know if you want me to answer, or if your messages were a polite, friendly way to end our back and forth. Which would be very like you; God knows I have misunderstood you before. If that is indeed the case, I hope you can forgive this. I just want to say that I’m so happy you’re well. —
Time passes.
It could stop there. Their back and forth. As he says.
She wants to play again, she realises. Whatever existed that night, when he wrote those texts (Elizabeth), whatever was there, she wants it again.
‘Your kindness, your fire,’ he’d written.
OK. Let’s play with fire.
* * *
Elizabeth doesn’t want to think when she types:
— Does that mean you want me to stop texting you? —
Send.
* * *
Darcy’s answer arrives less than five seconds later.
— No. —
Then:
— No. It doesn’t mean that at all. —
* * *
QUESTION TO LAURA;
I do believe our favourite couple are at it again, falling for each other, and still misunderstanding each other! Laura and I discussed her books, as we planned this visit and I wondered about a question I had noticed from a reader of Laura’s asked, “Why are you so cruel to Darcy?” Laura thought it was a good question to answer here on my blog for your entertainment, dear readers. So I give you, Laura’s answer to my question; Why are you so cruel to Darcy?
“Why are you so cruel to Darcy?” a reader asked, after reading “Heartbroken.” Good question! Well, maybe Darcy deserved it. He was really awful to Elizabeth, in Austen’s wonderful novel and in this story.
But perhaps I just love writing despair and passion. Pride and Prejudice is a happy book, but before it all ends well, it goes pretty dark. And this is why, by contrast, we find the lovely ending so satisfying…
AUTHOR BIO;
Laura Moretti is new to the Pride and Prejudice world, but not new to writing… She is a fantasy and sci-fi writer in another life.
And if you want to test the waters before reading “Heartbroken,” you can subscribe to her newsletter and get “A Day in Turin,” a free Elizabeth and Darcy novella, here:
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